


The rain (or the words that passed between them)

by tsunkiku



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Canon Universe, Fluff and Angst, M/M, What happens between them during the hug scene, it was meant to be happy but it turned out sad because i'm a big fat emo sorry, mild canon spoilers, mostly angst though
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-12
Updated: 2017-09-12
Packaged: 2018-12-26 18:37:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12064737
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tsunkiku/pseuds/tsunkiku
Summary: The brush of Shiro’s slow, calm breaths stirred his hair, warm against his scalp as for a moment, neither did anything but press together. The silence felt like a shell, like the safe confines within the cockpit of his lion; he was powerful there. His hands knew what to do, where to go, how his body fit. In Red, a certainty he had never quite known before hummed against his skin, the beat of a second pulse.No. Not quite.





	The rain (or the words that passed between them)

It had been a mutual thing, sprung from nowhere. One moment, they had stood, staring at one another, teetering on the edge of goodbye, and then like the pull of a magnet, Keith had let himself be drawn closer. Their hands had touched, fingers weaving together like limbs in tangled blankets. It was supposed to just be that; comradery, nothing more. Shiro had always done his best to keep things at arm’s length, Keith knew. He had tried so hard to avoid causing him even the impression of hurt. Back at the garrison, he had gone out of his way to shield him from anything that might distress him. It had felt stifling, back then, a thousand years ago. Keith had accused him time and time again of thinking that he was weaker somehow. A little brother, who needed defending, coddling. A child.  
  
Now, when Shiro trusted Keith and his strength and his courage on the battlefield, he knew better than to doubt him anymore, he sensed that this was different. Outside of the lion, Keith was tender all over again. A petal of a lonely flower, battered by the rain.  
  
He needed a shelter, and Shiro’s arms were it.    
  
The brush of Shiro’s slow, calm breaths stirred his hair, warm against his scalp, as for a moment, neither did anything but press together. The silence felt like a shell, like the safe confines within the cockpit of his lion; he was powerful there. His hands knew what to do, where to go, how his body fit. In Red, a certainty he had never quite known before hummed against his skin, the beat of a second pulse.  
  
_No. Not quite_.  
  
In the lion, Red was there. It wasn’t the same as being next to Shiro; being held by Shiro. Keith desperately tried to capture in his mind precisely what it felt like; fingers scrambling through the soil of his memories, digging through the anguished ore that he’d gilded around his heart to stop the hurt of Shiro’s absence from stinging so much. What did this kind of safety feel like? What should he say, to Shiro, here now, to let him know that this was how he felt?  
  
Shiro said nothing, but that was because that was the kind of person Shiro was. Good, right down to the trembling, aching core of him. He was content to dwell idly in this moment and feel the way their bodies pressed closer with each breath. He knew that if Keith wanted to speak, then he would, and so he didn’t try to talk first. From the beginning, it had always been about what Keith wanted, what made Keith comfortable; Keith’s dreams. He could remember the way Shiro had come as close to afraid as he’d ever known him back then the day he’d broken the news about Kerberos. Keith hated himself now for the way his mouth had twisted, the shape of words he’d regret until the day he died burning on his tongue and in his chest. _You can’t just leave me! I came here for you! I became a pilot for you!_  
  
_Fine, leave, and don’t come back._  
  
“Shiro,” they were close enough that Keith’s lips almost traced his name against his neck, and close enough that Keith felt him swallow, his embrace tightening.  
  
Even without opening his eyes to see him smile, Keith could hear it anyway. He imagined it lined without the sadness that usually coloured all of his smiles these days; he thought about the grins which had split open his joy raw back at the garrison, before. “Yeah?”  
  
The sounds of the others’ animated discussion in the background was a distant chime reminding him that this moment could only last so long. A second, or a tick, or whatever other name someone wanted to call that slice of time that Keith could spend locked in Shiro’s arms without snapping in two. It didn’t matter what name you gave it, because regardless, it would be over too soon. There wasn’t enough space in that time he say everything Keith desperately needed to say. Maybe Shiro was content with silence, with closeness and nothing else, but he wasn’t! When had he ever held his tongue! When had he ever held back! His heart crested with so much furious emotion that it felt like it might swell and burst. A ball of lead, red hot.  
  
It was difficult to talk. It felt like each word was a tear close to shedding, and if the syllables weren’t handled carefully, then they would snap in his hands and the dam would break.  
  
“Shiro, when we go home, let’s—” Home? What was home? After the mission, when they returned to the castle? When the Galra were defeated, finally, and they could all go back to Earth? The Garrison? His shack?  
  
All those places were to Keith empty rooms without Shiro there with him. Home was right here. Home had a pulse, a heartbeat, lungs that sighed love against his ears. Keith’s eyes stung.  
  
“Let’s… let’s go somewhere where it rains a lot.”  
  
He could tell this wasn’t what Shiro had been expecting. He could hear the hover of a surprised breath, his hesitation as he fumbled with a response. Maybe he was thinking about what Keith most needed to hear. Maybe he was trying to think how he could do whatever it would take to banish the tears from Keith’s voice and understand what those words meant, not for his own benefit, but just to make him happy. _I’m sorry Keith. Keith, this wasn’t what I wanted. Keith, please understand. Keith. Keith, I’ll miss you every day._  
  
Keith loved him so much. He loved him so much. It burned inside of him until there was nothing else. The bitterness, the fury, the guilt, the regret. This wasn’t what Keith had wanted either.  
  
He’d wanted this, only this.  
  
Shiro and the space between them narrowing to nothing.  
  
It was though Shiro suddenly felt it too, his breathing turning deep as he inhaled into the deep barrel of his chest, staving off emotion. There wasn’t much time left, seconds maybe, and so Keith had to rush. Why did it always feel like they were running out of time? Why did it feel like, even now that his prayers had been answered, and he finally had Shiro here again in front of him, that they were still on borrowed time?  
  
Hadn’t this been what he’d wished for? Just one more chance to stand before him and tell him honestly, from the pit of his ugly, jealous heart, that he hadn’t meant what he’d said?  
  
“We can stand underneath an umbrella together, and we can watch it, and then I can stick my hand out and feel it and then you can do it too, and it’ll be the first rain we’ll have felt in years, and it’ll be together, you and me, and it’ll be just us and we’ll be together and be able to have small stupid things like that again and—”  
  
“Keith,” Shiro’s voice was thick, a whisper just for him into his hair. His words fell against his skin like a chant, a prayer, carving themselves into the flesh of his throat. “Promise me you’ll be careful. Promise me you’ll be safe. I don’t care if you fail, just do whatever you have to do to come back to me.” Their love a howling gale, his heart the thunder in a storm. Keith wanted to bathe in it. He wanted to tip back his head and feel those words beat against his face until the day he died, so that he could remember them for whatever came after.  
  
Those words, the ones he should have said to him, back then, but now Shiro handed them in the same unselfish way he handed Keith everything.  
  
Shiro was what it meant to love someone. He’d taught him everything he knew that mattered, and now he taught him this.  
  
And now, the embrace was ending, Shiro’s arms were already unfolding from him, taking his heart with him, but Keith didn’t mind. He offered it up gladly, cradled in honest, bloody palms, knowing that Shiro would treasure it.  
  
When he looked up at him, Keith’s tears were gone. There was a flicker of concern in Shiro’s face that informed him that the other had expected to see them, but was mindful of Keith’s pride enough to conceal his worry. That was so Shiro. His Shiro. He would give anything to see him smile again. Going into the belly of a beast was nothing.  
  
He would touch every distant star and crush it in his jaws if that was what it took to feel the rain on his fingers and Shiro by his side.  
  
“Don’t worry. I’ll be back soon.”

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first time writing for Voltron! Sorry everyone! 
> 
> In this version they 'broke up' (though I'm imagining their relationship back then wasn't explicitly romantic, probably one sided pining from Keith?) whilst still at the Garrison because back then Keith was just as volatile but twice as much a brat; Shiro's disappearance matures him. They haven't resolved their feelings yet by this point, but they both know they got it bad. 
> 
> As usually comments always welcome. Thanks for reading and suffering!


End file.
